The X-Files: Ghosts of Walford (An EastEnders Crossover)
by seanclaauthor
Summary: Mick Carter gets a shock when a face from the past shows up on his doorstep. The only trouble is she's been dead since the New Year. X-Files agents Mulder and Scully are on the case but it's not long before other residents experience similar ghostly visitations. A horror tale of death, witchcraft and evil as the dynamic duo are caught up in the horrors of Albert Square.


**Chapter 1 - A Cry For Help**

"Time, Ladies and Gentlemen please."

Mick Carter was looking forward to closing up the pub for the night. As much as he had enjoyed the company of the locals, he had called for last orders twice because no one had taken any notice of him the first time around. There would not be a third, even in their drunken state, the customers knew not to push him. For a family man, Mick had gathered quite the reputation amongst the residents of Albert Square.

Running the Queen Victoria Public House for almost four years had given him a good rapport with customers. The friendly publican prided himself on first-rate service.

As the last customer staggered out the door, Mick scratched his scruffy beard, before closing the door and pulling the bolt across. While clearing up, he contemplated whether to have a nightcap or go straight upstairs to fall asleep watching his favourite DVD "Danny Dyer's Hardest Men."

Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he opted for the former and made his way towards the stairs in the hallway.

_Knock, Knock_

Someone was rapping the front doors. Strange? He was not expecting anyone at this late hour. Perhaps if he ignored them, they would go away.

_Knock, Knock_

Mick reached down behind the bar and lifted a small wooden baseball bat. The last time someone had knocked so late, a group of robbers had bullied their way in and threatened his family. This time, he was ready for them.

_Knock, Knock Knock, Knock_

Realising the person at the door was frantic, Mick removed the bolt and pulled the door open. A smooth skinned woman stood in front him; early forties with long golden blonde hair and blue eyes. Unfazed by her beauty, he questioned why she was standing there at all.

"Ronnie?"

She didn't reply, but her bottom lip quivered. Then she began to sob uncontrollably.

"I... I... can't feel my body, Mick." she shivered as she spoke. "Help me."

Frozen to the spot, the shocked landlord felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The person in front of him had to be an illusion? Ronnie Mitchell and her sister Roxy were killed in a tragic drowning accident on New Year's Eve. He rubbed his eyes hard, expecting the ghostly apparition to disappear when he opened them... she didn't. Her eyes widened with fear instead.

"Help me!" she screamed again in a high pitched voice.

She lurched forward gasping for air. Mick caught her before she could fall but she convulsed and coughed, water spurting uncontrollably from her mouth. Then she breathed again, allowing Mick to her ease her onto the floor while he ran through the back to phone an ambulance. Explaining the situation to the operator was out of the question, unless he wanted slung in a mental institution. Taking a deep breath, he explained the situation but around the fact Ronnie had died seven months ago.

Satisfied the ambulance was on its way, he slammed the phone down and raced back to the stricken Mitchell lying helplessly in the bar.

"I've called an ambulance babe," he shouted. "They'll be..."

He stopped dead in his tracks. The bar was empty. Ronnie Mitchell was gone.

Staggering forwards in a daze, he noticed the bolt on the front door was still locked and at his feet were puddles of water, glistening in the light...

**Chapter 2 - A Scare For Sharon**

The man in the trench-coat sauntered through Bridge Street and tried to ignore the lingering stares from the market traders. Perhaps, it was his all American chiseled features that merited their ice-cold reaction, or maybe his black suit and white shirt reminded them of some dreaded market inspector.

Either way, Fox Mulder was not about to let a few stares from the natives put him off interviewing the landlord of the Queen Vic; not when he had a strange story to tell. A story that might be an X-File.

Continuing on, he arrived outside a cafe named _"Kathy's"_ just in time to bump into his partner who was carrying two white polystyrene cups. Her expression was one of irritation, so Mulder braced himself for some harsh words as she handed him a cup.

"What the hell are we doing here, Mulder? This place is a dump."

"We're enjoying ourselves." he quipped. "Anyway, you said it was OK for me to come to London with you."

"Yes, for a holiday!... not to visit a run down square in some pointless search for ghosts and ghouls."

"I never said anything about ghosts and ghouls."

"You never said anything actually."

Mulder feigned a shocked expression. "I gave you ample information."

"Waking me from my nice warm hotel bed and telling me to saddle up as we head out to the car isn't _ample information_."

Mulder flashed a toothy smile towards his skeptical partner. He had been in this position with Scully many times before. Such conversations were his bread and butter.

"OK, I admit I may have been a bit hasty but you know I've always got something wonderful up my sleeve."

"Well, I should think so." Scully joked, her attitude towards him clearly softening. "Especially after we drove three hours to get here."

Scully, who wore a brown trench-coat and blouse, pushed the strawberry blonde hair away from her face and started towards the smart-looking pub on the corner. Mulder followed her inside, marveling at the old-fashioned decor, and listening to the old-fashioned jazz music playing on the jukebox.

There was only one customer at the bar, an elderly gentleman with a trilby hat and dark jacket. Mulder asked where the landlord was.

"He won't be a minute ma man." the customer assured them.

Mulder nodded and sipped his tea, just as a tall scruffy looking man with a black waistcoat came in from the back. He smiled at the pair of agents then beckoned them over to the far side of the bar, away from listening ears.

"Are you Mr Carter?" Scully asked.

"Yeah, a wanna fank ya for coming. I wouldn't normally breathe a word of this but when you contacted me and mentioned that X-Files fing, well... I thought you'd be the best people to talk to."

"You must understand we have no jurisdiction here." Mulder explained. "Although we are interested in what you have to say. Aren't we Scully?"

Scully didn't answer. Mick rubbed the back of his head and gestured towards his selection of spirits and beers.

"Would ya like a drink first?"

"No thanks, Mr Carter." Mulder replied. "Now you mentioned a visitation... a woman who came to you begging for help. Is that correct?"

Mick nodded and explained what happened. Mulder listened, soaking up details like a sponge to analyse everything the landlord was telling them. Being an investigative agent on the so-called "_X-Files_" meant tales of aliens, ghosts and other paranormal happenings didn't phase him.

"Can you think why Ronnie Mitchell might have contacted you?" Mulder asked.

"I barely knew her." Mick lied, shifting where he stood. It's one thing after another; money worries, my sick Mother in Law and all the problems with Aunt Babe."

The customer approached the bar for a rum, interrupting the flow of the conversation. Mick excused himself and went to serve him. Mulder exchanged glances with Scully.

"I think we should stick around." he whispered.

Scully nodded in agreement. "Whatever makes you happy, Mulder. It's not as if I've got a vacation to enjoy or anything."

Mulder smiled and turned to the customer who was still sat at the bar waiting for his rum. "Do you know any good hotels around here?"

"I used to run a BnB." he replied in a singsong voice. "We shut down but you'll find a few hotels up west."

"Thank you, Mr?"

"Trueman." he said. "Patrick Trueman."

Mulder could feel Scully's venomous stare running right through him as they exited the pub.

"I know what you're gonna say but hear me out." he said.

"Oh this oughta be good."

"How many people have came back to life on this square?"

"Let me guess." she said with a sigh. "None?"

"Two." he held up two fingers. "A man named Den Watts and the current owner of that cafe; Kathy Beale."

"Well there you have it." she fired back. "Maybe Ronnie Mitchell and her sister are still alive."

"Why don't you go find out."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Check us into a hotel." he replied cheekily.

"You're a sucker Mulder." She made a funny face and walked towards their car parked outside the market.

Mulder watched her go and then took a glance back at the Queen Victoria pub. Something was here... he was sure of it.

Later that night, Sharon Mitchell trudged down the stairs of number 55 Victoria Road and switched the kitchen light on. Glancing at the clock she noted it was after 2am and flicked the switch on the kettle. When it had boiled, she poured herself a coffee and sat at the table.

"Sharon." someone called out in a haunting voice.

She screwed her face up, then looked into the hall. It was a male voice calling out. Was it her husband Phil? Despite its faintness. that voice sounded familiar.

"Sharon. Help me."

It was louder and clearer this time. The temperature in the room had dropped, sending a chill down Sharon's spine. That voice... it was... No!... It wasn't possible.

She moved through to the living room but what she saw made her blood run cold. Sitting on the couch in front of her was Dennis Rickman. Her ex-husband, love of her life, Father of her child... and a man who was murdered on New Year's Eve 2005...

"No!... You're dead." she mouthed.

Dennis was silent as he stood up and walked towards her, sporting the same pained expression the night Sharon saw him get stabbed to death outside the Queen Vic.

"Dennis, it is really you?" Sharon asked.

The phantom Dennis looked down at his translucent body and his pained expression changed to confusion. Sharon held her hand out, beckoning the ghostly figure to accept it. Dennis touched her skin but Sharon felt no physical sensation.

"I've missed you, darling." Sharon wept.

"Where am I? I'm cold"

"You're back on the square. How did you get here?"

"I... I don't know. The last thing I remember we were outside the Vic and..." he stopped suddenly.

"Dennis," Sharon whispered.

Blood seeped through his grey T-shirt staining it dark red. He clutched his chest and at the same time his once hazel eyes disintegrated, leaving only two black holes that had Sharon screaming hysterically. She was still screaming by the time her husband Phil burst into the living room, armed with a baseball bat.

"Sharon, what's going on?" he asked in a deep and husky voice.

She threw herself into his arms.

"Did you see him?"

"See who?" he countered.

Sharon did not respond. The ghost of Dennis was nowhere to be seen.

**Chapter 3 - Roxy Returns**

The next day, Mulder took a seat at a table in the Queen Vic and indicated he was ready to begin the interview, This was his big breakthrough moment. There was always some detail from a witness that shed light on what was going on.

The interviewee; Sharon Mitchell, had insisted it was conducted in the pub, something to do with her husband not liking the law at his house. Mulder was secretly pleased with the new location. It gave him a chance to see a potential reaction from Mick Carter behind the bar. If what Sharon had told Mick was true, these two visions were almost certainly connected.

Only Scully's findings had the normally cool Mulder concerned. Her investigation seemed to confirm that both Ronnie and Roxy were indeed dead. If the information was reliable, they were almost certainly dealing with some type of supernatural phenomenon.

"In your own time Mrs Mitchell?" Scully soothed.

"I saw him." Sharon said, shaking from side to side like a leaf.

Mulder glanced at Scully. "Saw who?"

Choked up, Sharon spoke through a tissue. "My husband, Dennis."

The two F.B.I agents listened as Sharon relayed the events of her husband's murder. It seemed unlikely the distraught woman in front of him would imagine her husband's death, especially one so violent.

As Scully explained what Mick Carter had seen, Mulder noticed the landlord becoming increasingly agitated behind the bar. He kept wandering over to listen in on the interview, and finally dropped a glass that smashed on the floor, much to the whoops and delight of a few younger drinkers sat in the corner.

"Are you OK Mr Carter?" Mulder asked as he left the table to approach the bar.

"I just got a bad feeling about this Mr Mulder." Mick growled.

"What makes you think that?"

Mick came round to the other side of the bar, whispering now. "I can't explain it but something's not right. I feel it right here in my nut." he pointed to his forehead.

Mulder loved this part. It was usually where he explained his theory so far. However, a crash interrupted the proceedings and the Vic doors flew open, revealing a well-built, dark-haired man who careered towards Mick. Mulder was slow to react and the angry customer managed to pin the landlord against the bar.

"Well?" the dark-haired man raged. "Any chance of you explaining why you're telling people my dead wife was in your pub?"

Mulder pulled the irate man away, leaving a surprisingly calm Mick to adjust his waistcoat and stretch his arms out.

"You do that again an I'll iron you out, Jack!" he raged.

"Try me," Jack raged, squaring up to Mick.

"That's enough Jack!" Sharon interrupted.

"Stay out of this." Jack replied.

"Mick's telling the truth."

Jack turned to face her with a disgusted expression. "How would you know?"

Sharon paused before continuing. "Because I saw my dead husband too."

"Dennis?"

Sharon nodded. "I think we can all agree something strange is going on here. The last thing we need is a punch-up in the middle of the pub."

Mulder watched Mick return to the bar but was suddenly aware of Jack Branning standing in his personal space. They were so close, their noses were practically touching.

"Who are you?" Jack growled.

"I'm Special Agent Mulder, I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

Jack didn't flinch at the startling revelation.

"Just stay the hell away from me and my family with this. My daughter lost her mother and auntie. I don't want this dragged up. You got it?"

Mulder nodded, and then watched Jack storm out of the pub, slamming the door as he did so.

Mulder smiled at Scully. Hostility during their investigations was nothing new. Many times in the past they had been confronted by angry locals. Mulder figured Jack was a pussycat compared to some they had encountered.

"Who was that man?" Scully asked.

"Jack Branning." Mick replied. "Stays at number 27. He's er... he's a nice guy really. In fact he's one of me best friends."

Scully shook her head and left the pub, leaving Mulder alone with Sharon and Mick.

"I'm gonna head over to that cafe on Bridge Street." he announced.

Mick nodded enthusiastically. "Why do you fink summat might be worth checking out?"

"No, it's lunchtime."

Over at the Branning residence, Jack had returned and was glancing over his business documents. He couldn't believe the cheek of Mick, Sharon and those two FBI agents. People talking about Ronnie as a ghost was the last thing he needed. He had struggled to juggle family life with business since she had passed away on their wedding day.

Sipping the lukewarm coffee he had made before storming over to the Vic, he wondered how things had ever gotten this bad. Perhaps if he had spent less time moaning, he could have taken steps to sort his life out earlier.

No! Getting over Ronnie was one of the hardest things he had ever done. The pain was still raw seven months later. If only she had not dived in to save that useless sister of hers? If only she had done what he suggested and dropped her like a bad habit? She was the reason his wife was dead.

As he gulped the last of his coffee down, he was suddenly aware of a presence in the room. It was a presence he had felt before. Before he could think further, the papers in front of him flew into the air and floated onto his pale blue carpet. Cursing his luck, he checked the windows and found them locked.

Strange? Perhaps the front door was open? No! It was closed too. A rustle from behind made him spin on the spot. What he saw was enough to generate nightmares for the rest of his life. His sister-in-law, Roxy Mitchell stood on the first step of the stairs, her washed out skin contrasting with her glowing red eyes. Jack gulped hard, then blinked. By the time he opened his eyes, the ghostly Roxy disappeared.

Meanwhile at the cafe, Scully had picked up her roll and bacon and was looking forward to sitting in the car to eat it. Mulder was still in the queue so she walked back to the car and found a note stuck in the window wipers on the front windscreen. She opened the scrunched up paper and read the contents.

Written in red lipstick were the words - _25 ALBERT SQUARE - COME ALONE!_

**Chapter 4 - Abi's Warning**

Scully knocked on the door of Number 25 and waited for a response. Finally, a young blonde in her early 20's opened the door slightly and peered out from behind a chain-lock.

"Hi, I'm looking for the person who left the note on my car." Scully stated, waving the piece of paper in front of the girl's face. "Whoever wrote it said to come to this address."

"Come in." the girl urged, pulling Scully inside.

"Easy." Scully said with a wry smile as she stepped into the hall. "Who are you?"

The young girl looked back along the hall into the kitchen, then poked her head around the stairs to check no one was eavesdropping.

"My name is Abi Branning. I don't live here, it's my Grandma's house." she explained. "She's gone out, but this is the only place I feel safe."

"Safe from who?" Scully asked gently.

"She said she'd kill me if I told anyone." Abi yelled. "I shouldn't be talking to you... I... just go."

Scully put a reassuring arm around the stricken young girl.

"I can't help unless you tell me what's going on, Abi."

"She's gonna kill everyone at the Halloween party tonight by summoning the spirit of Nick Cotton. I told her how crazy she was but she wouldn't listen. At first, I thought she was nuts but now I hear there are ghosts all over the square."

"Who?" Scully repeated, leaning down, so they were face to face.

Abi burst into tears and sank onto the stairs with her head in her hands. "Aunt Babe." came her reply through sobs.

Back at the Branning residence, Mulder was looking for Scully and had knocked on Jack's door to see if she had gone to speak with him. He had knocked a few times and not gotten an answer so he opened the letterbox to shout through.

"Mr Branning... it's Special Agent Mulder. I'm looking for my partner. Have you seen her?"

There was a brief silence, and then Mulder heard the door being unlocked. Jack stood in front of him looking as white as a sheet.

"I saw her." he stammered.

"Scully?"

"No." Jack shot back irritably. "My ex-wife's sister. The mother of my child."

Mulder took a deep breath as Jack continued. "What the hell's going on around here?"

"I'm trying to find out." Mulder said, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder.

As he headed back across the square, Mulder had to ignore cheeky comments from the stallholders taunting him about his spooky investigations. Word sure travels fast around here, he thought.

He tried to picture each individual sighting as a dot he could join together. There _had _ to be a connection. There was _always _a connection. Why had Mr Branning seen his wife's sister and not his wife? Sharon had received a visit from her husband, and Mick had seen Ronnie. It didn't make any sense.

Baffled, he made spun around towards the pub and made a beeline straight for the landlord behind the bar, and found members of staff hanging Halloween decorations from every conceivable place.

"I need to speak with you, Mr Carter."

"Sure thing." Mick replied. He turned to Tracey. "Can you cover the bar, sweetheart?"

The curly-haired barmaid nodded.

Mulder and Mick took a seat at a secluded table and Mulder got straight to the point.

"You lied to us." Mulder stated firmly. "Your friend Jack just had a visitation from his sister-in-law. That means Sharon saw her ex-husband, Jack was visited by Roxy, but I can't work out why Ronnie Mitchell chose to visit you? What's the connection?"

"Look, Mr Mulder, I appreciate yer efforts but maybe we should leave this ere now." he squirmed.

A familiar voice piped up. "I think it's best you answer the question, Mr Carter."

Mulder turned in his chair to see Scully. She nodded in his direction and then took the third chair at the table.

Mick was silent for a moment, then finally he explained how his brother had raped his wife, Linda and he was looking for revenge.

"I asked Ronnie to murder him." he admitted.

Mulder could see the likable landlord was genuinely remorseful and actually felt sorry for him.

"That must have been difficult?" Mulder said softly.

Mick wiped a tear with his sleeve."It was. Me and Linda got over it though. That's what you do when you love someone isn't it?"

The agents looked at each other. It was hard to argue with his logic but they needed to know the rest of the story.

"Did Ronnie carry your request out?" Mulder asked, hoping the answer was negative.

Mick shook his head. "I couldn't go through with it."

Mulder indicated for Scully to move from the table so she duly obliged, leaving the upset landlord alone at the table.

"Think he's telling the truth?"

Mulder nodded. "Look at him, Scully. He's not got it in him to murder someone. I think we're missing an important piece of the puzzle here."

Scully looked deep in thought. "Maybe, you're right."

"Scully?" Mulder said, hinting for her to continue.

She filled him in on what Abi Branning told her, then brandished the tape recorder they had used to record Sharon Mitchell's interview.

"After Abi's warning, I played the tape again. Listen to this."

She clicked play and Sharon's interview began. It was normal at first but eventually a sinister female voice overpowered the rest of the audio by repeating the same creepy phrase over and over again... "I curse you." "I curse you." "I curse you."

Mick, who had left the table to join the two agents suddenly blurted out "That's my Aunt Babe's voice."

"Are you sure?" Mulder replied.

"I banished her from the pub. Those were the last words she said to me."

"Is she dangerous?" Scully asked.

"She's twisted. Capable of anything." Mick replied, pointing to a photo of Aunt Babe hanging behind the bar.

Mulder stood up from the table. "What time does your Halloween party start?"

"First guests have arrived." Mick replied, pointing to the couple dressed as a werewolf and vampire ordering drinks at the bar.

Scully drew her gun as more guests pushed through the doors...

**Chapter 5 - The Return of A Killer**

At number 25 Albert Square, Mrs Dorothy Branning, affectionately known as Dot collapsed into her living room chair and tried unsuccessfully to catch her breath. Going shopping at her age was nothing but a chore made worse by the increasing difficulty of carrying the bags back home.

There was no one else to help. Dot's niece Abi, whom she loved dearly, looked after the shopping but couldn't manage on this occasion. Dot understood all too well. The young ones had their own lives to lead and couldn't be at her beck and call 24 hours a day.

Sinking into her chair, Dot lit the end of her cigarette and inhaled it's addictive but exhilarating toxins. As she enjoyed each drag, a strange noise from the hall startled her, leaving her feeling more than a little scared in her own home.

_Bump_

Dot placed the cigarette in her silver ashtray and struggled from her chair. She peered around the frame of the living room door, but saw nothing but darkness in front of her fading eyes. Reluctantly, she turned on the light but saw the hallway was empty. Satisfied it was her imagination, she sat back on the comfy chair.

_Bump_

There it was again. She struggled up again and could have sworn she saw a black jacket passing through the gap between the door and the frame. Had her unreliable eyes played tricks on her She walked slowly into the kitchen and inhaled the sweet unmistakable scent of a man's aftershave wafting through the air. The culprit soon made him visible.

"Ello Ma."

For a moment, she was shocked at the sight of her son Nick who had died from hypothermia a few years previously. Now, he stood in her living room, his gelled black hair reflecting off the light. Nick had never been good to his "Ma," even trying to poison her on more than one occasion.

It didn't take long for her shock to turn into uncontrolled anger but her hysterical cries didn't phase the spirit, who merely smirked in her direction. Undeterred, Dot grabbed the collar of his leather jacket and screamed at him for an explanation.

"Get off you demented old bag!" he scowled.

"What are you doin ere, Nick. Even when you're dead I can't get no peace." she cried in distress.

"I've been brought back for revenge." he said menacingly.

Dot hesitated to ask. "Revenge against who?"

"This whole stinking square." he spat. "Someone should have raised it to the ground years ago."

Without saying another word, he twisted his ghostly body and walked straight through the solid front door. Dot moved as fast as she could and saw him head in the direction of the pub.

"Nick." she cried.

But Nick didn't reply.

The Queen Vic was busy with jovial customers, each in a variety of costumes for the Haloween party. Mulder had seen more creatures in here than his entire time investigating the X-Files. Two local girls Mulder heard were named Whitney and Stacey were both dressed as Wonder-Woman; A development causing the competitiveness between the two attractive ladies.

Mulder had even spoken to Denise Fox who had come dressed as the local thug, a man named Phil Mitchell who was bald and had a beetroot face.

The fun and games were nothing more than a sideshow because the FBI agent and his partner had a job to do. Scully was watching the doors at the other side of the bar, ready to nod if she caught sight of Aunt Babe.

Mulder pushed past the dancing regulars and joined Scully by the door. As he did so a drunken man in his mid-twenties with ginger hair and pale skin danced around the side, pushing him out of the way and forcing his elbow into someone's beer glass. It would have ended up on the floor, were it not for the quick-reactions of a middle-aged lady with short hair.

"Sorry." Mulder said.

"No worries." she replied, dancing next to him with a glint in her eye.

Meanwhile, the overzealous youth dancing with Scully was getting on her nerves. Despite screwing her face up many times, he was not getting the message.

"I'm Jay." Mulder heard him slur. "What about you?"

"I'm busy." Scully replied.

"People like me an you gotta stick together." he said.

"What do you mean people?"

He looked around, obviously not wanting anyone to hear.

"Gingers." he said drunkenly.

Scully started walking away but he leaned into her.

"They call me the Ghostbuster around here." he said, necking his drink.

"Why's that?" Scully replied.

"Cos by the time I leave the spirits are gone.

Mulder burst out laughing and Scully pushed past Jay to where her parent stood.

"Don't say a word, Mulder."

He stifled his laugh. "I won't."

At that point, a heavy set middle-aged woman wearing a rabbit onesie crept beside Mulder and pinched his bum. She began to sway too and fro in front of him and he responded by copying her movements.

"I love a man in a suit." she said, the lust dripping from her voice.

"That's great to know." Mulder replied, dancing awkwardly by her side.

"I'm Karen Taylor, I live across the square. Whadya say you and I head over to mine and have a little party of our own?"

Mulder didn't know where to look and was thankful when Scully dragged him away by the sleeve.

"What are you doing?" She snapped.

"I'm getting my groove on." he said, doing a quick jig on the spot to emphasize his point.

Suddenly, someone or _something _plunged the pub into darkness. Mulder urged the guests to get on the floor for their own safety, as beer glasses smashed all around them.

"Babe's here somewhere?" Mulder shouted to Scully over the commotion.

Mulder noticed one of the double doors opening and saw Babe smirking at the carnage she had caused in the pub. He opened his mouth to shout but Scully beat him to the punch.

"Stop... FBI." she balled, chasing Babe out the door and into the square.

Mulder approached the bar as the lights came back on. Before he could speak with Mick, he caught sight of a man standing on top of a table next to the two girls dressed as Wonder-Woman. He had something in hand; something that glinted in the light.

"He's got a knife." Mulder shouted, scrambling to reach the angry spirit.

There was a flash before Mulder reached the spirit, and the ghostly figure began to convulse. His eyes filled with fear as he slowly disappeared in front of the terrified guests.

There was an eerie silence as Scully re-entered the Vic.

"What happened?" Mulder asked.

"She's dead, Mulder." Scully explained. Then she turned to Mick Carter. "She had a heart attack out in the square about five minutes ago."

Mick hung his head and disappeared through the back, leaving the guests to speculate on what just happened. Mulder turned to the clock behind the bar. It had stopped exactly five minutes ago.

"I guess her time run out." he said.

Next day, Mulder and Scully popped back into the Vic, and were surprised to find a policeman speaking to Mick.

"What's going on?" Scully asked.

"Just asking questions about Aunt Babe." Mick said, tears welling up in his eyes. "No matter what she's done, I loved her."

"I'm truly sorry." Mulder told the distressed landlord.

Mick cleared his throat. "Tell me what happened."

Mulder looked at Scully who shook her head and exited the pub.

"I think your Aunt summoned the dead for her own purposes. She wanted revenge on the square, but more importantly she wanted revenge on you for kicking her out of the family."

Mick nodded solemnly. "That's what I thought."

Mulder patted Mick's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Mr Carter."

An hour later, the FBI pair were on their way back to the airport.

"You ruined my holiday." Scully remarked from the passenger side of their rented car.

"C'mon Scully, you can't have a holiday without a paranormal event." he replied without taking his eyes off the road.

"I'll get over it... Mick was right... It's what you do when you love someone."


End file.
